


A New Beginning

by Blazesurrender



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:40:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29600490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blazesurrender/pseuds/Blazesurrender
Summary: "Just to talk." Dogma insists."Just to talk." Fox agrees, staring at their mingling feathers in wonder.
Relationships: Dogma/CC-1010 | Fox
Kudos: 21





	1. A Promise Made

**Author's Note:**

> Another prompt from tumblr that got out of hand.

When Fox finally tracks Dogma down, the former 501st trooper's breath comes a little easier, though it hitches uncomfortably when he makes eye contact with the Commander. Dogma pulls his wings in closer to his back, trying to make himself small, and asks, "Why did you follow me?"

Of all the questions Fox has prepared answers for, he isn't prepared for this one. Struck dumb with surprise, he finally manages to ask, "What?"

Dogma looks up, accusation brimming in his eyes, "Why did you follow me? Are you here to keep making fun of me-"

"Make fun of you?" Once again, Fox has no idea what Dogma's talking about, and so he tries to explain, "Why would I- nevermind. I _want_ to talk to you, to take you to dinner-"

_"Why?!"_ The sheer incredulity in Dogma's voice stops Fox in his tracks.

Befuddled, the Commander repeats, "I want to take you-"

Dogma shakes his head, "I heard you the first time. Why are you being so insistent about this? With me..." he trails off and raises his flightless raven-black wings in clarification, "like this?"

Fox takes a step closer now that his quarry is calming. "Like this?" He asks, his voice dropping into a soothing rumble as he flares out his own rust-red, white-tipped wings in an impressive display, meant to draw attention.

Immediately averting his gaze, Dogma drops his wings fast enough to send a soft _woosh_ of air toward Fox. The Commander tentatively lowers his wings, but keeps up the good form- hope still brewing in his heart.

"Please, Dogma," Fox asks again, rustling his own feathers, "may I take you to dinner? Just to see how it goes? We don't have to do anything you don't want to- just to talk-" he cuts himself off as Dogma slowly, ever so slowly, raises his own wings in a hesitant answering display to Fox's.

With a muffled whistle of delight, Fox shuffles closer and extends his wings toward Dogma's, until their primaries brush, red and black against each other.

"Just to talk." Dogma insists.

"Just to talk." Fox agrees, staring at their mingling feathers in wonder.

  
  



	2. A Promise Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fox breaks the promise he'd made and makes an offer that will prove impossible to resist.

Fox chooses a restaurant known to have a quiet atmosphere, not wanting to frighten Dogma off. Fox also arrives first, decked out in civilian formalwear. He hates it. The cuffs of his red-accented black vest are stiff and obnoxious and he feels like he looks utterly ridiculous. He grumbles to himself and glares at his hands, consciously folding them on the table in front of him while his wings flutter- broadcasting his anxiety to the whole room. He still hears Riyo's teasing,  _ 'The red sets off your wings, now go before you miss your own date!' _

The waitress comes back around, throwing him an exaggerated wink and ducking close to ask what his and his guest's wine preference is for the evening, and it's at that moment that Fox meets Dogma's eyes across the restaurant.

Catching sight of their eye contact, the waitress bites back an instinctive, unwelcome comment on how she hadn't expected such an esteemed Commander to invite another clone to an establishment known for its romantic atmosphere, and instead she offers him a second menu and departs back to the depths of the kitchens.

Dogma picks his way across the room as if he expects to be jumped. Following him with his eyes, Fox forces his wings not to flare in blatant invitation. _ 'Kriff, try  _ **_not_ ** _ to act like a cadet with your first stiff kad,' _ He half snarls at himself, carefully schooling his expression until Dogma finally sits across from him.

Whoever dressed the other trooper did a damn fine job- Fox doesn’t realize he’d stopped breathing until Dogma reaches tentatively out to cover one slightly trembling hand with his own. The Commander finally rips his gaze from the fantastically tailored shirt, swallows thickly, and offers the other trooper a crooked smile.

Luckily, his nervousness seems to set Dogma more at ease- the poor vod had nearly jumped out of his skin every time Fox so much as glanced at him until tonight, when he’d absolutely knocked Fox out of his armor. Dogma shyly glances down at their still joined hands, and in a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, Fox settles on a course of action.

He brings the other’s hand up to brush his lips over warm knuckles, earning a soft hitch of breath and half-stifled flutter from dark wings. Unable to stop the smile from breaking across his face, Fox finally settles back in his chair. “Try the wine, it came highly recommended by a... friend of mine.”

When Dogma hesitates, Fox sets the second glass down and furrows a brow. “You can order something else if you want, they have everything from 79′s and more, if you’d prefer something more familiar.”

Dogma still waits, and Fox realizes he hasn’t let go of the other’s hand yet. Instead of releasing his grip immediately, Fox presses another kiss into warm skin- this time to the inside of Dogma’s wrist. The sharp inhale elicits a little kindness, and Fox finally lets him go.

After ordering, Fox grasps at threads of conversation, and things seem to be going rather well until he unintentionally blurts, “Your wings are beautiful.”

The next several beats land heavy, awkward and silent, before Dogma’s breathing changes and he draws his wings tightly behind him, trying to hide them from Fox while shuffling sideways out of his seat. When Fox reaches out to help him, Dogma hisses, “Don’t touch me,” before realizing what he’s said and who he’s said it to, his breathing picks up, and he adds at a more normal- if still devastated- whisper, “ _ Don’t  _ touch me.”

When Fox finally catches his eyes, his heart shatters at the destroyed hope still lingering there.

“Please,” The Commander asks without moving, wary of driving him away further, “please don’t leave.”

Dogma looks away. “You’re just like the others.” He keeps his wings pulled in close and takes a step back when Fox tries to close the distance. 

_ ‘Others?’ _ Fox wonders before reaching out- he has to get through to him, only for Dogma to stumble blindly backwards and yank his hand back as if he’s been burned before turning and fleeing from the restaurant. Fox blindly throws a generous amount of credits on the table, and runs after him.

“Dogma!” He calls, sprinting after the black-winged trooper. Losing patience, Fox fully unfurls his wings and launches himself into the air before soaring low and swift after him, easily catching up to the Sergeant. Despite knowing that it would likely cause him to panic, Fox tackles him.

He’s unprepared for Dogma to go completely limp in his arms. Fox pulls him up into a hold for easier transportation, and takes off again. He doesn’t stop flying until they reach the balcony of the Command Level apartments. “I’m going to set you down, please don’t run,” Consciously keeping the ‘order’ out of his tone, Fox carefully sets Dogma down.

“Why did you bring me here?”

Out of all the questions Fox had expected, that was certainly not one of them. “I wanted to talk back at the restaurant, but…”

“But I freaked out.”

“Yeah.” Fox waits for a moment before continuing, “I wanted to formally extend an invitation to join the Coruscant Guard.”

It takes a beat for Dogma to process the unanticipated information. “But… the flimsiwork?!”

“Already filled out.” The Commander pulls out a datapad from the pocket of his vest, and offers it to Dogma, “All it needs is your signature. Commander Cody and Captain Rex already agreed to sign off on it as soon as I submit it to them for approval.” His wings flutter hopefully behind him despite his attempt at restraint.

Stunned, Dogma searches the Commander’s expression for any trace of malicious intent. “Why would you do that for me?” Dark feathers rustle restlessly as he asks, “I’ve never done anything deserving of serving on the ‘Guard, so why now?” Barely refraining from flaring his wings out in confusion, Dogma continues suspiciously, “Why would anyone approve the transfer anyway?”

Fox lowers his gaze. “I don’t know how much you remember from before,” His voice cracks, “but you killed the traitor General who was directly responsible for the deaths of hundreds of good soldiers- good men. That alone warranted intervention by Command to get you back out in the field, but…”

“But because I supported him so strongly, none of my brothers want anything to do with me anymore.” Dogma finishes for him, turning away.

“Not all of us.”

Dogma’s attention snaps back to Fox, wings flaring wide, “What does  _ that _ mean?”

“Just that I would really like to get to know you better. Not just because of your actions, but because, from what I’ve seen, you have a lot of potential to be one of the best of us.” Unintentionally closing the distance between them, Fox opens his wings and his arms, “If you’ll have me, I mean.”


End file.
